


Transcending

by cosmic_llin



Series: Deanna Troi Shags Various Alien Ladies [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Bajoran, Betazoid, Casual Sex, F/F, Femslash, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 09:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deanna Troi and Ro Laren have more in common than they had assumed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transcending

**Author's Note:**

> Characters do not belong to me, I am making no profit.

_[Deanna Troi and Ro Laren sit together in Ten Forward, talking intently. They stop as Riker approaches and watch him.]_

_Riker: I hope I'm not interrupting._

_Ro and Troi: (innocently) No._

_Ro: I was hoping to run into you._

_Troi: Please, sit down._

_Riker: Well. I'm glad I ran into the two of you. When you have no memory of who you are, or who anybody else is, you find yourself..._

_Ro: The counselor tells me that at times like that, we might do the things that we've always wanted to do._

_Riker: She said that?_

_Troi: (sweetly) It's psychologically valid._

_Ro: (deadpan) Commander, don't worry about it. As far as I'm concerned, you and I have shared something that we will treasure forever._

_[Ro exits]_

_Riker: Well... I'm a little confused._

_Troi: Well, if you're still confused tomorrow, you know where my office is._

_[She exits]_

_\- Conundrum, Season 5_

 

'Poor Will,' Ro Laren giggled, when Deanna Troi caught up with her in the corridor outside Ten Forward. 'I'll say this for him, he knows his way around in bed... and on the couch...'

'On the floor?' Deanna suggested, 'on a console? On a holodeck replica of the bridge?'

The synthehol they had been drinking was going to her head. She was letting it.

Laren's eyes widened. 'Wow... I have to admit I'm impressed.'

'You ought to be,' said Deanna. 'I've put a lot of time and energy into cultivating Will.'

Laren blushed, delighted. 'So he wasn't always this... adept?'

Deanna leaned against a bulkhead. 'Oh, no. When I first met Will he was filled with enthusiasm, but a bit on the inelegant side. It took him time to learn finesse. And the correct time to apply it.'

'So... you must have taught him to do... you know...' Laren looked around the empty corridor and leaned across to whisper in Deanna's ear.

Deanna laughed out loud. 'Oh, so he's still using that. Yes, that's one of mine. Good, isn't it?'

'Oooh... very good,' said Laren.

'He was a good student,' said Deanna, 'but he still has a lot to learn. Perhaps one day I'll teach it to him.'

'You think you two'll get back together?' Laren asked, leaning against the wall beside Deanna.

Deanna smiled thoughtfully. 'I think so, someday. When we're both ready to settle down.'

'And you're not yet?'

'Well... humans are still so attached to monogamy. There are things I want to get out of my system before I make that sort of long-term commitment to Will.'

'I can understand that,' Laren said.

'What about you?' Deanna asked. 'What's it like for Bajorans? Are you always monogamous? Are casual encounters accepted?'

'There's nothing casual about it,' Laren said. 'For Bajorans, sex is a spiritual experience. A... transcending. Even when it's understood that it won't happen again, or it's outside the context of a relationship, it's considered... impolite to treat the act itself with anything less than respect.' She sighed. 'Of course, things are different for Bajorans these days – you can't always spare the time and energy to do things properly.'

Deanna grinned at her. 'There's time now.'

'Pardon?'

Laren's expression was politely uncertain, but Deanna sensed the little spark of excitement beneath her level tone.

'Neither of us is working until the morning, my quarters aren't far...' Deanna continued.

'Counselor, are you propositioning me?'

'Yes, I am.'

Laren tilted her head, looked curiously at her for a few moments. 'All right,' she said at last, 'let's go.'

They walked unhurriedly away.

* * *

In her quarters, Deanna replicated them another drink each, cocktails in long-stemmed glasses.

'I'll change into something more comfortable,' she said. 'Be right back.'

The bedroom was a mess, littered with PADDs she had been reading in bed, discarded garments, empty cups. She tidied up a little before selecting a gauzy dark blue chemise and putting it on. It skimmed her thighs, and tickled a little when she moved. After a moment's thought she took the pins out of her hair and shook it loose.

In the other room, Laren had made use of the replicator and changed into a short green robe loosely tied with a belt, that threatened to fall open in interesting ways. There was soft music playing, strings and low woodwinds, and the lights were at half illumination. She was still at the replicator, and she took out several things, placing them on the end table by the couch.

One of the items was a small censer, which Laren lit. Smoke wisped from it and began to fill the room with fragrance. It smelled sweet and rich, a little like vanilla and something else that Deanna couldn't identify. She took a deep breath of it and exhaled slowly.

Laren came to kiss Deanna. It was a gentler kiss than Deanna had expected, and it went on while they moved onto the couch, languid and careless. Laren's mouth was warm and tasted of the drinks they had had, of syrupy berries and intoxication. Her tongue drifted across Deanna's lips, her mouth opened. They alternated between long, deep kisses and fluttering, brief ones, and they sank gradually further down onto the couch until they half-lay, Laren stretched out across Deanna, fingers in her hair and around her waist.

Deanna pulled Laren closer to feel the curve of her body through the two flimsy layers of clothing that separated them. Their bare legs touched, and Deanna ran a hand up Laren's calf to brush against the edge of her robe, falling across the back of her knee.

Laren giggled into Deanna's mouth. 'It tickles,' she said, pulling away a little, her lips moving across Deanna's cheek and down her jawline to her neck, where her tongue darted out to trace a line all the way down to Deanna's shoulder, while the hand not curved around Deanna's waist moved her thick hair out of the way.

Deanna's hand inched past Laren's robe and up her leg, landing on her thigh and staying there for a moment, stroking softly. Laren shifted to lean and look down at Deanna and her robe slipped silkily open. Deanna looked up and arched a little, reaching for a soft, pink nipple with her mouth. She made her target and closed her lips around it, circling it with her tongue.

Laren mmmmed under her breath and let herself drift slowly backwards. Deanna climbed around and resumed, spreading Laren's robe outward to uncover her from knee to neck, and running her hands slowly across her stomach, her hips, her sides, her shoulders as she teased her nipples to rosy attention with her tongue. She sat back a little to admire her work, and Laren lay, flushed and breathing deeply. She smiled at Deanna, a smile that began coyly and widened into a grin.

'I know what we're doing next,' she said, sitting up on her elbows and turning to retrieve a small bottle from the end table. She opened it and poured a little of the contents onto her fingers, rubbing them together gently, and then reached inside Deanna's chemise to dab the substance first onto one nipple, then another.

Deanna squeaked. 'It's cold!' she protested.

'It'll warm up in a second,' Laren said, cleaning her fingers on a cloth on the end table. 'Don't worry, I'll distract you while you're waiting.'

She drew her into another leisurely kiss, and Deanna relaxed into it, dizzy with incense and ardour.

'Oh!' she gasped, suddenly.

Where Laren had dabbed her mysterious substance, she was suddenly overwhelmed with sensation. Every brush of her chemise against her nipples made her gasp, made other parts of her sing out in sympathy. She writhed just to feel the fabric slither around her, and when Laren touched her with a single fingertip through it, she shuddered and closed her eyes.

They kissed again, more sensations fighting for attention – Laren's hand warm on her back, her own fingers running through Laren's short hair, their hips nudging together, the scent of the incense and the swirling, pulsing music, the urgent, rippling feeling building between her legs.

At last, Laren pulled away, and brought back the little bottle.

'Here, take a little,' she told Deanna, and did the same herself.

This time Deanna was expecting the cold, but as Laren's fingers spread the stuff around the warm places between her thighs, she still squirmed. She recovered, and teased Laren's legs gently apart with a hand to apply some herself, stroking it gently through the curls of dark hair onto Laren's labia and swollen clitoris.

'That's good,' Laren breathed, her voice husky.

Her fingers continued to stroke Deanna. Deanna reciprocated, and they fell slowly into a rhythm, free arms wrapped around one another and clutching tightly, pulling their bodies as close as they could be, while like mirror images their fingers flickered and twirled, warm and wet, first slowly and gently and then more firmly, faster, ever faster and harder, as their sighs and moans built into whimpers, into gasps, into cries that drowned out the wailing strings that they had all but forgotten, drowned out the incense and the dimly-lit room and the Enterprise and the stars outside and everything but what they were doing, together.

Dimly sensing Laren's climax approaching, Deanna held back a very little, slowing her fingers a fraction while she caught up, and when Laren had stirred her to the brink, she redoubled her efforts and threw them both into the chasm together, and they clung to one another until everything ebbed away, leaving them panting and quivering.

They lay there, wrapped in one another and comfortably warm and sticky. Their breathing evened out, their hearts slowed.

After some time they began to talk, about the music, about the incense, about the art in Deanna's quarters.

'It reminds me of Bajoran art,' Laren remarked. 'It's so colourful and flowing.'

'I don't know much Bajoran art,' Deanna said. 'Perhaps you can show me some of your favourites, sometime?'

'I'd like that,' Laren agreed. 'But in the meantime... computer, time?'

'The time is oh-one-hundred hours,' the computer supplied.

Laren smiled. 'Still plenty of time. I've replicated some more things I thought you might enjoy. And we haven't even finished undressing yet.'

* * *

They were late to the bridge the next morning, both of them arriving on the same turbolift, eyes heavy with tiredness and mouths struggling to contain grins. They had intended to be on time, even planned for it, in spite of the extreme lateness of the hour by the time they finally slept, curled up together in Deanna's bed. But they had gotten carried away at breakfast. Most unprofessional.

Nobody noticed, anyway.


End file.
